She realized more and more the quality of the brink upon which she stood—the dreadful readiness with which in certain moods she might plunge, the unmitigated wrongness and recklessness of such a self-abandonment. “Julian! I was worried that. ” Michelle stubbed out her cigarette with her foot and sauntered back to the cafeteria. He is the one who has said that she must go to the convent. And for me there is only one treasure-house. That is what I don't understand.
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